


Picture Perfect

by Remembrance



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Angst and Humor, Canon Compliant, College, Difficulties, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Serious at Times, Silly at Times, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-04 21:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13373274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remembrance/pseuds/Remembrance
Summary: It's funny how the world worked. In high school, Shirabu was Semi's dream, while Semi was just someone Shirabu didn't delete off Facebook because of occasional summer shirtless selfies. Then, Semi became all Shirabu could think about, while Semi honestly couldn't give a shit if Shirabu existed or not.





	1. Physiological Allostasis

**Author's Note:**

> I update a new fic/chapter/update every Sunday! Might not be this fic, but there's something new every Sunday... I actually might make it Saturdays, though. But, yeah! To the fic!
> 
> This has been beta'd by the amazing Snow (check out their fics: [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sondeneige)). Any remaining mistakes are my own. Yeah. I hope you like this fic. I like this fic. A bit heavier than my usual stuff but, idk. I hope you enjoy it.

 He was gleaming, maybe glowing; he was drenched in sweat, focused, exhaustion littering his face – but most of all was that look of determination, the scrunch of his nose. It came off as anger, and Semi knew there was anger definitely there – but it was the raw focus, raw determination, that made him look that way.   
   
 He wished back then he had his camera.   
   
 The sight was something Semi never forgot, not even after all these years.   
   
 “Shirabu,” Washijou had said at the end of Semi’s second year. “You’re going to be our official setter.”   
   
 Shirabu’s eyes lit up, and he seemed to bristle with warmth. Happiness.   
   
 Semi never forgot that sight either.   
   
 As the team’s ‘other’ setter, Semi supposed he should feel a sense of anger, betrayal, or disappointment; but, no, he didn’t. He already knew Washijou wasn’t happy with the way he set. Semi couldn’t help it. He wanted more than just Ushijima’s spikes being the center of attention.   
   
 Pride.   
   
 Semi had pride.   
   
 But he also had acceptance. He knew this would happen, and he wasn’t as bothered as he felt he should’ve been by losing the status of official setter.   
   
 That was, until—   
   
 Shirabu nodded once.   
   
 He didn’t jump for joy or even smile for more than a few seconds. It was as if Shirabu didn’t care. Semi watched him from afar. He knew he shouldn’t have (Tendou and Ushijima were watching the way he was looking at Shirabu, and he knew they would misunderstand), but he kept watching.   
   
 Shirabu glanced at him.   
   
 Semi didn’t look away.   
   
 Shirabu’s eyes drifted away, not as if he was running away; no, it was as if – as if he didn’t care.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi remembers, once, he was putting on his shirt in the change room when he heard some jeering. It wasn’t that uncommon, especially with a team so large that some weren’t more than water boy. But he felt a twitch when he realised they were talking about Shirabu.   
   
 “He’s like a naked mole rat, or something. Did he even go through puberty?”   
   
 “Of course he did,” another member snapped. “He just shaves his arms and shit. I don’t know.”   
   
 “Aw, he’s one of those pretty boys huh?”   
   
 “What, you swing that way?”   
   
 “Nah, but wouldn’t mind pulling his hair a bit.”   
   
 “Ha!”   
   
 Semi snapped his head, opening his mouth to yell but—   
   
 “Are you done?” Shirabu asked in a monotone voice, though he had one eyebrow raised, and the slightest tremble in his voice indicated he was close to anger.   
   
 The two boys jumped.   
   
 Shirabu grabbed his bag and walked passed them, glancing once to Semi, saying nothing more.   
   
 * * *   
   
 “You should toss higher to Tendou,” Semi said one day, in his third year.   
   
 Shirabu glanced at him. “He doesn’t like tosses that are too high.”   
   
 “He doesn’t have to like them to hit them.” Semi shot Tendou a glare from across the gym. Tendou didn’t notice. Semi looked back at Shirabu. “He’ll complain about high tosses, low tosses, and mid tosses. Just give him high tosses. He’ll score better.”   
   
 “Mm.” Shirabu nodded once. “I don’t really know how to handle him.”   
   
 Semi cracked a smile. “He’s a hard one to deal with.”   
   
 “Ushiwaka too,” he admitted. “But it’s mostly Goshiki I’m having the biggest trouble with.”   
   
 “Ah.” Semi tensed a bit. “He’s a strange one, that first year.”   
   
 “Right. He’s a first year… I was going to ask advice on how to set to him, but I suppose he’s new to both of us.”   
   
 “Yeah.” Semi put a hand on his hip, watching as Goshiki trailed after Ushijima with a kicked-puppy expression. “Just keep his tosses steady and as similar as possible.”   
   
 “Do you practice with him often?”   
   
 “No, but I’ve seen you set to him enough times.”   
   
 “Ah.” Shirabu glanced away a little bit, and—   
   
 Oh. Was that a smile?   
   
 Semi felt stupid for a moment. Stupid? No. Maybe self-conscious? No. Oh. He felt a small thing inside him, warm, and he looked away from that smile. He needed to.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi half wondered if he would have preferred being a benchwarmer who – you know – actually sat on a bench. He had to stand in the box with the other substitute players, waiting for a moment he could go in. He knew he would. Aoba Johsai wasn’t pulling their punches today, but Shiratorizawa still had the lead. To ensure that lead, though – and to get Oikawa to stop pressuring Shirabu – he would be subbed in as a pinch server soon.   
   
 But, until then…   
   
 He was gleaming, maybe glowing; he was drenched in sweat, focused, exhaustion littering his face – but most of all was that look of determination, the scrunch of his nose. It came off as anger, and Semi knew there was definitely anger there – but it was the raw focus, raw determination, that made him look that way.   
   
 Semi’s eyes softened.   
   
 Yeah.   
   
 He would remember this sight.   
   
 When he was finally called up by Washijou, he switched places with Shirabu (who looked more worn-out for the second set than he should’ve been) and stepped on the court.   
   
 He liked the feeling, of being on the court as a setter. As  _the_  setter. He wondered, sometimes, if his pride was getting in his way. Wouldn’t it be better if he just sold out his style and did exactly what they asked of him, became the inconspicuous setter Shirabu was? He wondered, but by the time his serve scored its second service ace, he knew he wasn’t Shirabu.   
   
 He wasn’t sure, though, if it was jealousy or admiration he felt for Shirabu.   
   
 * * *   
   
 And then he graduated.   
   
 Semi took a deep breath, letting it out.   
   
 Tendou was talking about something, and Semi was tuning him out.   
   
 Graduated.   
   
 It was over. High school, volleyball, Shirabu – it was over.   
   
 “Semi.”   
   
 Semi froze for a moment, looking up.   
   
 Even Tendou shut up.   
   
 They had been making their way through a covered walkway between Shiratorizawa’s buildings.   
   
 Shirabu stood in front of him.   
   
 “Shirabu,” Semi returned.   
   
 “Thank you for staying with us until the Interhigh.” Shirabu didn’t bow, nor did he use honourifics (again, Semi didn’t know if what he felt was jealousy or admiration). “I wish you the best in your future.”   
   
 “Thank you.” Semi made sure it didn’t sound like a question. “And you too. Next year you won’t have Ushijima.”   
   
 “I’ll find a way to win, even without him.”   
   
 “Will you still be an inconspicuous setter?”   
   
 Shirabu cracked a smile. “Maybe.” He began walking past them. “Goodbye.”   
   
 Semi nodded.   
   
 “Wait!” Tendou yelled, “What about me?”   
   
 “Don’t fail your classes, Tendou,” Shirabu murmured without looking back.   
   
 “Hey!”   
   
 Semi cracked a smile as well, wider than usual.   
   
 * * *   
   
 But life wasn’t that simple.   
   
 It was their third year of university when Tendou leaned on Semi with a smile that made it seem like Tendou knew  _exactly_  when the world was going to end.   
   
 Semi bristled a bit. “What do you want?”   
   
 Semi and Tendou had both given up volleyball, though they did often watch Ushijima play in official matches. It brought a sense of nostalgia, a sense of peace to them. That, and of course, Tendou watched Ushijima as if he was the epitome of perfection.   
   
 Well, Semi thought about it, Ushijima probably was.   
   
 “The volleyball team has a new setter.”   
   
 “So?”   
   
 “Wanna go watch their practice match?”   
   
 “Sure.”   
   
 When they got to the sidelines, they saw Ushijima scowling beyond comprehension in the corner. Semi wondered if it was about their new setter, until he saw that blur of orange hair. Semi snickered. “Ushijima really hates being on the same team as Hinata-kun, doesn’t he?”   
   
 “Yeah.” Tendou grinned. “The little monster-man mandarin-boy ended up being a starter in his first year. Ushijima wasn’t a starter until his second year.”   
   
 Semi snickered again. “How’d he take it?”   
   
 “He was trying to explain to me that Hinata-chan was lacking technical skills and knowledge when they played in high school, and since Wakatoshi-kun told Hinata-chan just that back then, then Hinata-chan should now thank him for his constructive criticism.”   
   
 “He… He’s really bitter, isn’t he?”   
   
 “I haven’t seen him this bitter before. Ever.”   
   
 Semi laughed, but his laugh paused for a moment.   
   
 Their new setter.   
   
 Ever so slightly, Semi’s eyes widened.   
   
 Tendou followed his gaze, and then it was his turn to snicker.   
   
 “Shirabu.”   
   
 Tendou hummed a little victory theme to himself.   
   
 Semi took a deep breath; he analysed the match the entire time. Or, rather   
   
 He was gleaming, maybe glowing; he was drenched in sweat—   
 the scrunch of his nose. It came off as anger, and—   
 raw focus, raw determination, that made him look that way.   
   
 “Tendou. Is this why you brought me here?”   
   
 “Yep.”   
   
 “Why—” Semi shot him a glare. “Why is Shirabu, here?”   
   
 “I don’t know,” Tendou admitted. “But Wakatoshi has been saying they needed a new setter for a while now. Their old one was on-purposely not tossing to Wakatoshi, and their backup setter doesn’t want to play seriously, so maybe he got scouted?”   
   
 Semi said nothing else.   
   
 * * *   
   
 “You would not believe your eyes,” sang Tendou as he walked into the room with large, choppy, exaggerated movements, like a cartoon, “If ten thousand fireflies—” He moved his arms up and down as he took large steps into their communal kitchen, “—Lit up the world as you fell asleep!”   
   
 “Tendou.” Semi shot him a glare. “I’m studying.”   
   
 “Wakatoshi!”   
   
 Ushijima, who was sitting across Semi at the kitchen table, sighed. “Tendou is pressuring me to push you towards Shirabu.”   
   
 “Wakatoshi, don’t reveal that!”   
   
 “Semi, it is your choice, of course. Though I do agree with Tendou’s assumption that rekindling your connection to Shirabu is a good idea.”   
   
 Semi raised an eyebrow at that.   
   
 Ushijima looked back at his books, flipping the page.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi ignored all thoughts of Shirabu, but of course life wasn’t so simple. There was only one good coffee shop on campus; it was more expensive, but it didn’t taste like acid water. While he was waiting for his drink, he saw him texting, also waiting for his drink.   
   
 Shirabu wore a white shirt with a thin black hoodie over it. Dark navy jeans, white belt hooked around his waist.  
   
 Semi eyed him for a moment. “Shirabu.”   
   
 Shirabu looked up, glancing up, nose scrunching up for a second. It took him a second before, “Semi. Right?”   
   
 Semi’s jaw tightened. Oh. Well. He figured it had been three years – of course Shirabu didn’t remember him instantly, not the way Semi remembered Shirabu. “Yes.” He wasn’t peeved that he didn’t get an honourific; it was more comfortable that way. “Tendou and Ushiwaka told me you’re the new setter.”   
   
 “Mmm.” Shirabu glanced to the cup of coffee the barista put down. He grabbed a sleeve and slipped it on the paper cup before looking at Semi again. “Yeah. I got an offer to switch universities, so I did.”   
   
 “An offer?”   
   
 “Your coach found out I was Ushijima’s favourite setter; when he found out I was a biology major, with a perfect GPA, he offered me a volleyball position and a research assistant position if I switched universities.”   
   
 Semi’s jaw twitched. There were so many things he wanted to say. First of all, it wasn’t ‘his’ coach. Second, he was studying biology? “A research position?”   
   
 “His wife is in the biology department.” Shirabu took a sip of his drink. “So.” He paused as there was a hiss of the steam wand as the barista steamed soy milk for Semi’s latte. “He pulled all the strings he could to get me to come.”   
   
 “And you did?”   
   
 “My teammates didn’t particularly like me. They called me names, so I’m looking forward to playing against them.”   
   
 Semi’s eyes softened. “Called you names?”   
   
 “Nothing awful, just passively aggressively called me pretty boy. Stuff like that.”   
   
 “They did that in high school too,” Semi pointed out, not thinking.   
   
 “Yes.” Shirabu had a bit of ice in his voice, though it let up when Semi winced. “But,” he continued, “None of the regulars did. The benchwarmers can say whatever they want.” He glanced to the coffee the barista put down. As Semi reached for the drink, Shirabu smiled. “They called you a pretty boy too.”   
   
 Semi almost fumbled his drink, making some kind of scratching noise with his throat. He grabbed a lid and put it on, as well as a sleeve. “They did.”   
   
 “What are you studying?”   
   
 “Photography.”   
   
 Shirabu’s mouth opened for a moment. He stared. “Really?”   
   
 “Yes.” Semi sipped his drink, nodding in approval. “I don’t have anything as fancy as a research position… but I do submit pictures to the school paper.”   
   
 “We have a school paper?”   
   
 The corner of Semi’s lips tugged into a small smile. “Nobody cares about it, but yes.”   
   
 “You don’t play volleyball.”   
   
 “No. I gave it up.”   
   
 “Oh.”   
   
 “I wasn’t cut out for it, like you are.” Semi saw a small shake in Shirabu’s eyes. “I’ll watch your games.”   
   
 “Thank you.” Shirabu stared at him, eyes focused. “I thought you would hate me. I took your spot, after all. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you were still bitter. I know I would be.”   
   
 “No. Like I said, I wasn’t cut out for it.” Semi took another sip of his drink. “I admired you,” he admitted, watching another shake that he couldn’t quite understand. “You found your own way to play, cut your own path. I liked that. Did you really worry I would hate you all this time?”   
   
 “I did, yes.” Shirabu stared at him. “Though to be honest I kind of forgot you existed.”   
   
 Semi coughed.   
   
 “I remembered you occasionally,” he admitted, “But that’s mostly because I kept you on social media, because you posted shirtless beach pictures every summer, next to Ushijima-san.”   
   
 Semi raised an eyebrow.   
   
 “What can I say?” Shirabu smiled. “You  _are_  a pretty boy.”   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi was thankful that, for whatever reason, Tendou wasn’t home.   
   
 Because the next thing Semi knew he was shoving Shirabu against the walls of his dorm room, hurried hands moving over each other, rustling clothes, unbuttoning, unbuckling, unzipping—Autumn layers were stripped, jackets and sweaters thrown off. Their lips were pressed against each other, and Semi drew in Shirabu’s existence. He groped Shirabu’s ass and Shirabu retaliated by cupping his crotch.   
   
 Shirabu pushed him on a chair and straddled his hips, working on his belt.   
   
 Semi grabbed his hips, feeling up his sides, feeling up his dream.   
   
 Shirabu slipped between Semi’s legs.   
   
 For a moment Semi was confused but then—”Ah,” he gasped.   
   
 Shirabu took Semi’s cock into his mouth, bobbing his lips down the shaft.   
   
 Semi’s eyes fluttered and he arched his back, rocking his hips into that tight wet mouth. It was all consuming, warm, and the way Shirabu took him into his throat spoke of experience. Semi’s eyes closed, and he had images of Shirabu sucking off guy after guy to get this good. But he opened his eyes—wanting to see the sight itself.   
   
 Shirabu nuzzled the base, taking all of Semi’s length in him. He looked up, making eye contact.   
   
 Semi looked into those brown eyes and—”Ah!”   
   
 Shirabu winced a bit as the cock throbbed and pulsated inside him, but he didn’t look away.   
   
 “Sh-Shit…” Semi crumpled against the chair.   
   
 Shirabu swallowed. moved his head back and wiped his mouth with his hand. “Thanks,” was all he said before he took his stuff and left.   
   
 Semi blinked, wondering if for a moment he’d done something wrong but—no.   
   
 Semi caught a glimpse of a smirk on Shirabu’s lips as he left.   
   
 * * *   
   
 “You would not believe your knees,” sang Tendou as he walked into the room with large, choppy, exaggerated movements, like a cartoon, “If ten thousand bumblebees—” He moved his arms up and down as he took large steps into their communal kitchen, “—Lit up the world as you fell asleep!”   
   
 “That’s not how the song goes,” Semi murmured. He didn’t even know why he said something; there was no point arguing with Tendou.   
   
 “So!” Tendou clasped his hands on Semi’s shoulders. He leaned in to see what Semi was reading and made a face. “History of Photography? Yuck!” He stuck his tongue out. “Wouldn’t you rather be thinking about Shirabubu?”   
   
 Semi tensed. “He would kill you if you called him that.”   
   
 “But SemiSemi!”   
   
 Semi shrugged Tendou off, but it didn’t last long; Tendou leaned his arms on Semi’s back and rested his chin on his arms. Semi heard Tendou humming and he did his best to ignore it.   
   
 “So…”   
   
 “Why don’t you tell me what happened between you two?”   
   
 “Hm?” Semi feigned ignorance. “What happened between us?”   
   
 “Wakatoshi saw Shirabu coming out of our dorm. When he got in, you were there – quite flushed!”   
   
 “Was I?” Semi flipped a page to distract himself; he realised he didn’t really read the page he was supposed to, though, and flipped back.   
   
 “Why don’t you tell your best friend?”   
   
 “You’re not my best friend.”   
   
 “SemiSemi! Tell me!” Tendou slumped and dramatically fell to the floor. “You know I’m a curious creature… I’ll die if you don’t tell me!”   
   
 “Finally,” Semi whispered, “Sweet release.”   
   
 Tendou whined on the floor. “What if I guess?”   
   
 “No.”   
   
 “Did you guys make out?”   
   
 Semi’s lips twitched into a smile.   
   
 “Oh my God.” Tendou shot up and slammed his hands on the kitchen table. “You  _did.”_    
   
 “A… little more than just making out…”   
   
 Tendou’s eyes lit up. He zoomed in. His face was only a centimetre from Semi’s. “You guys… did the do? The doodly-do?”   
   
 “No.”   
   
 “Handy-hand?”   
   
 “No.”   
   
 “Mouthy-mouth?”   
   
 Semi’s cheeks flushed.   
   
 “You did the mouthy-mouth!” Tendou moved his hand in a handjob motion before shooting off at Semi. “Pshoo!”   
   
 Semi stared at him, questioning his life choices.   
   
 “And?”   
   
 “And what?” Semi moved away, closing his textbook. “He sucked me off then left. That’s that.”   
   
 “And?” Tendou pressed forward. “And?”   
   
 “Nothing!” Semi said, exasperated, “Nothing happened! He just sucked me off and left. That’s all there was to it. I got my teenage dream, I got everything I wanted, and I moved on. It’s been a week—he hasn’t been trying to contact me, I haven’t tried to contact him, that’s that. Stop gossiping with Ushiwaka about this.”   
   
 “We weren’t gossiping!”   
   
 “No,” came a deeper voice, “Satori was gossiping. I was listening because Satori likes it when I listen.”   
   
 Semi turned to see Ushijima at the entrance to the kitchen. “You… ugh. Overheard that? Not like it matters. Tendou would tell you anyway.”   
   
 “He would have, yes.” Ushijima gave a small nod. “Though I would have warned him to keep personal details like that to himself, and I would not have spread the information myself either.”   
   
 “Thank you for your chivalry,” Semi murmured.   
   
 “You’re welcome,” Ushijima said honestly. “Though…” He seemed to hesitate for a moment as he put plastic groceries bags down on the counter. “Shirabu has asked about you. He does so every so often. I suppose some people would interpret that as him liking you.”   
   
 Tendou went quiet, looking between Ushijima and Semi expectantly.   
   
 Semi thought about it. Finally, he sighed. “Does he have the same number?”   
   
 * * *   
   
  _[Semi Eita, 7:21pm] Want to go to the movies sometime?  
   
 [Shirabu Kenjirou, 8:42pm] um who the fuck is this   
   
 [Semi Eita, 8:58pm] Semi   
   
 [Shirabu Kenjirou, 9:06pm] Oh.   
   
 [Shirabu Kenjirou, 9:07pm] Yeah, that sounds like it would be nice.   
   
 [Shirabu Kenjirou, 9:07pm] When are you free?   
   
 [Semi Eita, 9:10pm] I’m free whenever. Finished all my midterms.   
   
 [Shirabu Kenjirou, 9:11pm] Nice. I still have on Monday, but that’s a whiles away.   
   
 [Semi Eita, 9:12pm] Free tonight?   
   
 [Shirabu Kenjirou, 9:14pm] Why not?_    
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi was nervous, of course, though he tried not to let it show. He got to the movie theatre a little late, but he saw Shirabu checking his phone, looking like he didn’t care. Semi smiled a little at that, deciding to be nonchalant as well. He did apologise for being late, though, just didn’t make a big deal out of it.   
   
 And so they went on their first date.   
   
 It was at the movies, so they didn’t really have to talk much. Semi stole little glances at Shirabu, satisfied when Shirabu seemed to be enjoying the movie. It was a comedy. When Shirabu laughed, Semi’s heart felt a little lighter.   
   
 Afterwards, they decided to get something to eat at a small pub. Semi ordered a few dishes to share—chicken skewers, sashimi, fried octopus, edamame—he had been here before, so he knew what they were good at.   
   
 Shirabu seemed amused. He leaned on the counter, eyes softened a little by his drink. He had ordered a sake bomb—a small glass of sake held over a beer by chopsticks. Unlike the others in the bar, who enjoyed slamming their hands on the table to make the sake cup fall into the beer, Shirabu just poured and stirred it. Grace, elegance. Fitting of him.   
   
 Semi eyed him.   
   
 Shirabu didn’t look away.   
   
 Jealousy or admiration?—Semi admired him.   
   
 Grace, elegance, but the eyes of a viper ready to kill.   
   
 Semi had ordered a cocktail, something with citrus liqueur, melon, and triple sec. It came in a tall glass and had a deep green tint. He sipped it, liking the sweet burn it gave.   
   
 “I didn’t think you drank,” murmured Shirabu. “You didn’t in high school, when Taichi brought beers for everyone.”   
   
 “Yeah…” Semi tensed a little, taking another sip. “My dad…” He shrugged a little. “He’s an alcoholic, so I stayed the hell away from it for a while.” He saw the concern in Shirabu’s eyes and he smiled softly. “It’s fine now, though. I know one or two drinks won’t send me spiraling down his path.”   
   
 Shirabu grabbed one of the yakitori, a skewer of chicken and bit a large piece off.   
   
 Semi snickered.   
   
 Shirabu blinked as he chewed slowly. He tilted his head in a question.   
   
 “You try so hard to come off as refined… but there’s a part of you that’s wilder.” Semi leaned in a little. “I remember it. From high school.”   
   
 Swallowing, Shirabu gave a smile. “Really? And when was I wild?”   
   
 “Mostly when you were telling off Tendou.”   
   
 Shirabu’s smile grew. “Can’t deny it. He drove me fucking crazy.”   
   
 Semi laughed, feeling himself loosen up. “He’s even worse now.”   
   
 “God.” Shirabu glared at the skewer. “I missed him when you guys graduated. Well. No. I missed his blocks. He comes to the games. Eyeing Ushiwaka, I assume.”   
   
 “Yeah.”   
   
 “They aren’t together yet, are they?”   
   
 “Yet?”   
   
 “Come on.” Shirabu rolled his eyes. “We could all see it.”   
   
 “No. They’re not together.” Semi smiled. “Yet.”   
   
 “I couldn’t tell.” Shirabu grabbed his beer with his other hand and sipped it. “They’re so… comfortable with each other.”   
   
 “Yeah, it’s nice.”   
   
 “No it’s not.” Shirabu frowned. “They’re  _too_  comfortable. Neither of them are going to make a move at this rate. I didn’t say anything, because… yeah, coming out in high school – people can do that at their own pace. But, seriously, they’re even worse to watch here.” He sneered a bit. “Did you three plan on going to the same school?”   
   
 “Uh.” Semi thought about it. “Not really? Ushijima got the best offer for volleyball here. I came because it was the closest university from home… Tendou, I’m not sure about. I think he followed Ushijima.”   
   
 “He said he wasn’t going to university for most of the year,” Shirabu reminded. “His third year, I mean. Then at the end he decided he was going.”   
   
 “He took the tests and studied the whole time, even though he was adamant about not going.” Semi’s eyes softened. “I don’t understand him.”   
   
 “I don’t either.” Shirabu ate the last of the chicken skewer and placed it, perfectly angled on the rectangular dish the other skewers rested on. “But enough about those two… Why photography?”   
   
 “Ah.” Semi used his chopsticks to grab some of the fried octopus. “I always liked it… I just never talked about it.” He put the food in his mouth, avoiding Shirabu’s look.   
   
 Shirabu tilted his head. He didn’t say anything, just sipped his drink again. There was a playful, heated look in his eyes, and Semi knew what it meant.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Crashing in the backseat of Semi’s car, Shirabu straddled his hips again, and Semi pulled him close. Their lips met, again, and it tasted sweeter with the little trickles of bitter alcohol still left on Shirabu’s lips.   
   
 Their dates usually ended in sex.   
   
 Passionate, crazy, peak of one’s twenties sex.   
   
 Semi learned two things: The first thing was that, while Shirabu liked to be in control, he much preferred to be manhandled—the second thing was that Semi loved manhandling him.   
   
 Semi didn’t particularly mind at first; after all, his teenage dream ended up being even more of a whore than in his fantasies. He  _loved_  making Shirabu say his name.   
   
 But everything in moderation—Semi started wondering if they could date without fucking, without the last note being a cumshot. Shirabu seemed to enjoy their dates, and he was fine with cuddling after sex, laughing about silly nothings, small intimacies.   
   
 In Shirabu’s apartment one time, Shirabu began unbuttoning Semi’s shirt.   
   
 “Mm.” Semi moved away a bit. “Not tonight.”   
   
 Shirabu blinked once, twice. “What?”   
   
 “I’m not in the mood tonight.”   
   
 “Oh.” Shirabu backed away, lips tense. “Fine.”   
   
 “Hey.” Semi reached out, pulling Shirabu closer. “I still want you here.”   
   
 Shirabu pulled back and looked at him, nose scrunched up. Confused.   
   
 “I want you without fucking you,” Semi murmured. “It’s not that hard of a concept to understand.”   
   
 “No,” Shirabu agreed. “I guess not. I just know how this ends. When they lose interest in me it’s because they found interest in someone else, or because I’ve had my use of being their pretty little plaything.”   
   
 “Shira…” Semi frowned. “What? No. I’m still hot for you.”   
   
 Shirabu raised an eyebrow.   
   
 “Shirabu.” Semi moved closer. “I was hot for you since I first saw you, and it hasn’t gone away. At all. If anything, I’m more attracted to you now than ever.”   
   
 Shirabu eyed him. “Why?”   
   
 “Why?” Semi laughed at the question. “How could I not be? It’s been… you, from the start. The way you don’t care, about anything. The way you’re just raw determination. You’re grace, and beauty, and you have a childish streak inside you. I see how you toss to Hinata-kun more when Ushiwaka’s not at his top game. It gets them both raging.”   
   
 Shirabu seemed amused for a moment, before he remembered what they were talking about. “You’re right. Sorry. It’s just how every guy’s treated me before, so…”   
   
 “Mm.” Semi didn’t say anything. He pulled Shirabu close and leaned back. “Forget about it, okay?”   
   
 “Mm,” Shirabu echoed. “Okay.”   
   
 * * *   
   
 The weeks passed, turning into months. As far as Semi was concerned, everything was going fine. It was perfect, actually. Semi came to see all of Shirabu’s games. As a fellow setter, he saw what Shirabu was going more clearly than anyone else. He  _loved_  seeing Shirabu get Ushijima worked up. “He’s not so obedient anymore,” Semi murmured.   
   
 “Hmm?” Tendou zoomed in.   
   
 Semi shoved Tendou’s face away. “Nothing.”   
   
 Shirabu was truly a vicious setter. He had a certain disregard for anything that didn’t bring them to victory when on the court. It, again, was that act of not caring Semi adored.   
   
 He was gleaming, maybe glowing; he was drenched in sweat, focused, exhaustion littering his face – but most of all was that look of determination, the scrunch of his nose. It came off as anger, and Semi knew there was anger definitely there – but it was the raw focus, raw determination, that made him look that way.   
   
 A click.   
   
 Tendou glanced over.   
   
 Semi looked at his camera, seeing the image he snapshotted.   
   
 Picture perfect.   
   
 “Hinata!” Shirabu tossed a quick.   
   
 There was no need to say his name, though—at a minus tempo Hinata spiked the ball clear into the enemy’s court. There were no defenders, no blockers, no one ready to receive because—   
   
 Tendou actually giggled. “Wakatoshi being used as a  _decoy._  God, I never thought I would see the day.”   
   
 Semi smirked, eyes never leaving Shirabu’s face.   
   
 Shirabu was smirking, victorious, with a childlike glee that broke all semblances of his elegance.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi walked Shirabu home after their practice match. Shirabu looked exhausted, he could barely keep his eyes open, and Semi thought it was adorable. He let Shirabu lean on him as they stepped into Shirabu’s apartment. The first thing they noticed was Shirabu’s roommate had eaten the pot of food Shirabu had made for himself (and, as he pointedly said,  _no one else)._    
   
 Semi forced Shirabu to take a shower and he began cooking something up. He wasn’t a good chef, but he wasn’t awful. Shirabu had a rice cooker that didn’t take too long, so he figured he could just fry something else up and call it a meal.   
   
 Shirabu’s roommate was—surprisingly—Yahaba, who Semi recognised as Aoba Johsai’s second setter. Yahaba mentioned, apologetically, something about his boyfriend coming over and eating all the food. He offered to help cook, but Semi said it was fine.   
   
 He wanted to do this.   
   
 There was no meat in the fridge, but he did find tofu.   
   
 There was that and some carrots, onions, broccoli, and pea pods.   
   
 “Stir fry it is,” Semi murmured.   
   
 A dash of soy, a twist of lime.   
   
 Within twenty minutes, Shirabu was hugging him from behind, pressing his face in Semi’s shoulder. Shirabu was wearing a loose shirt that was too big for him (and looked suspiciously like a shirt Semi was sure he had lost), and sweatpants.   
   
 Semi served the food hot and they ate in silence.   
   
 Shirabu was too tired to hold a real conversation.   
   
 After they ate, they cuddled on the couch.   
   
 Shirabu said he was a little cold, so he stole Semi’s hoodie.   
   
 Semi knew that was his favourite hoodie, and walking home without a sweater would’ve been a bad idea in autumn frost, but he figured he could borrow something else Shirabu stole from him. After all, Shirabu looked good in his hoodie.   
   
 “Hey,” Semi said, in a quiet voice, a whisper.   
   
 Shirabu turned to look up at him.   
   
 “I love you.”   
   
 Shirabu stared at him. “What.”   
   
 Semi’s mind blasted every insecurity he had ever had at him, but he shut them all out. “I said I love you.”   
   
 “Oh.” Shirabu blinked. “It’s too early to say that. Very early. Or… maybe not. How long have we been dating now?”   
   
 “Three months.”   
   
 “Oh.” Shirabu’s eyes softened. “And we’ve known each other for longer… guess it isn’t that strange.”   
   
 “No, I don’t think it is.”   
   
 “I love you too,” he admitted quietly.   
   
 Semi smiled, leaning down to kiss him. His world was perfect. Everything was perfect.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Time slipped by easily, and Semi didn’t realise how long had passed until Shirabu surprised him with rich, divine homebrewed coffee and Semi’s favourite cake—dark chocolate, citrus liqueur, and cherries—for their six months anniversary. Semi had, in all honesty, completely forgot it was their six months anniversary.   
   
 No, not forgot—   
   
 He had never known, never had realised.   
   
 They hadn’t really celebrated their first anniversary, or any other one after that.   
   
 Shirabu didn’t mind; in fact, he seemed like he knew that this was exactly what would happen (and he seemed amused that he guessed right).   
   
 Time passed.   
   
 Semi’s world was perfect.   
   
 Everything was perfect.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Shirabu was glaring at the television in his dorm apartment. It was relaying some new study that was linking personality types to failures in life, and Shirabu was not having any of it. He had been ranting at Semi for a while now—about how that’s not what the study results stated, and that the news station was putting their own spin on the data, probably for a higher viewership.   
   
 “Why do you care?” Semi asked, honestly.   
   
 Shirabu shot him a glare.   
   
 “I mean, it matters, yeah…” Semi felt something cold in his stomach; it made him want to flinch. Maybe hide. “But you’re the one that always says the world is fucked, that everyone’s wrong. You’re the one who doesn’t care.”   
   
 “Fuck off.”   
   
 Semi tensed.   
   
 “Fuck off, and fuck you.” Shirabu grabbed one of the couch cushions and threw it at him. “I don’t care, I don’t care, fuck you.”   
   
 “Wait—”   
   
 Shirabu got up and walked to the kitchen.   
   
 Semi got up, throwing the cushion on the ground and followed. “But it’s true.”   
   
 Shirabu huffed, and kept walking.   
   
 “You changed universities, you never care about switching teammates, volleyball, everything—your courses, grades. Even the comments you get from teammates, your shitty parents—”   
   
 “Fuck!” Shirabu turned around, hands the shape of claws, shaking with anger. “Off!”   
   
 Semi took a step back.   
   
 “You’re wrong! You’re so fucking wrong!” Shirabu’s chest heaved. “You’re so stupid… I care!  _Of course_  I care! I know what they say about me, I heard everything! I know what they call me! I know what everyone says about me! That I’m some stuck up bitch, that I’m a heartless pretty boy, that I’m only an asshole because I have it all!”   
   
 Semi’s mouth shut.   
   
 “I fucking hear it all! What the hell do they know? Let them think that! Let them think I was born pretty, and perfect, and elegant! I don’t want them to know! I don’t want them to know I was raised by an addict and a whore! I don’t want them to know that I only started playing sports so I could be in shape! I don’t want them to know I’m the vainest fucking person in existence!”   
   
 Semi watched him crack.   
   
 “I want them to want me! I wanted to be so fucking  _pretty_  that I made those guys question their sexuality! I wanted them to think I don’t care! That it wasn’t on purpose! I wanted to win—that’s why I went to Shiratorizawa! I wanted to win! I didn’t want to lose all the time! I wanted to be the main setter, I wanted to be Ushijima’s setter—and I would throw myself away if that’s what it took to win! I studied my ass off for grades and didn’t tell anyone! But I don’t tell anyone I studied, so everyone thinks I’m a fucking genius by nature!”   
   
 Semi watched him crumble.   
   
 “I hide everything from everyone because I can’t stop caring what people think of me!” Shirabu thrashed his hands forward, swiping at air. “And you! You!”   
   
 “Me,” Semi whispered.   
   
 “I was so worried that you hated me that I pretended I didn’t even recognise you! I pretended I didn’t know you were studying here! I faked it all! I’m a liar! The reason you fell in love with me, the reason you’re attracted to me—It’s all wrong! And you keep saying… over and over… like a moron… like an idiot… you’re an idiot, Semi—you’re an idiot because you don’t understand anything and you keep thinking you understand me! You don’t! Nobody does! I don’t let them!”   
   
 Semi watched him shatter.   
   
 “I…” Shirabu deflated, eyes wetting with tears. “I only wanted you because I thought you hated me. I wanted to destroy you, for hating me. I wanted to ruin you—don’t you get it? You think you know me… but you don’t. Nothing. You understand nothing about me. Just shut up!”   
   
 Semi said nothing.   
   
 “You know how I was raised?” Shirabu yelled as he took a step forward, “My mom had shared custody of a kid with another man, and my dad had shared custody of a kid with another woman—my half-brother and half-sister could come and go as they pleased, but I was stuck there! I was stuck in that family! And do you know how my parents felt about me?” Shirabu threw a salt shaker across the room.   
   
 The pillow crashed into a mug and knocked it off the table; it hit with a clang, but didn’t break.   
   
 “They didn’t want me! Why? Because people want things they can’t have! They could have me whenever they wanted, but their other kid?—That kid was their dream. I was nothing! And I hated them! And I ignored them, shut them out, turned them off, hated them so much that they wanted me again! You have no idea what it was like to grow up there, with a destroyed family, with all my bullshit! So fuck off!”   
   
 “You fuck off!” Semi snapped, but clenched his fist, digging his nails into his palm to keep his anger in check. “I grew up with an alcoholic father and a mom that hated me because I looked just like him. You have no fucking idea what I went through, and you’re spouting bullshit about what a shitty life you lived. You’re not the only one with issues, Shirabu.”   
   
 “Fuck you!” Shirabu could barely breathe, “You’re the same as they are!”   
   
 “When…” Semi’s brows furrowed together. “Do…” His hands balled into fists. “When you said you loved me…”   
   
 “I lied.”   
   
 Semi’s jaw tightened.   
   
 “I lied,” Shirabu said in a forced laugh, shaking his head. “I lied. I mean… I…” Shirabu took a deep breath. “I mean… I could… maybe get there… but I didn’t…”   
   
 “You’re right,” Semi murmured. “I’m an idiot. I fell in love with you because you were like me, because you had pride—because you wanted everything your way and you didn’t care about anyone else. I fell for how true you were to yourself… but the truth is that you’re just a fake.”   
   
 “Yeah.” Shirabu laughed again. “I am.”   
   
 “Fuck you.”   
   
 “You already did.”   
   
 Semi’s clenched fists began to shake. “You’re a liar. You’re fake, and disgusting. I want nothing to  _ever_  do with you again, got it?”   
   
 “Fine.” Shirabu took a step back, motioning for Semi to head towards the door. “Hope you had fun fucking your teenage dream. I’m sorry I wasn’t who you thought I was.”   
   
 Semi grabbed his things and, in a murmur, “I’m sorry you lied about everything you were.” Semi walked off, not turning to say anything else.   
   
 It was only when the door closed that Shirabu let himself crumble to the ground.   
   
 The news broadcast still played in the background. 


	2. Pathological Allostasis

_Afterwards they decided to get something to eat at a small pub. Semi ordered a few dishes to share—chicken skewers, sashimi, fried octopus, edamame—he had been here before, so he knew what they were good at.  
   
 Shirabu seemed amused. He leaned on the counter, eyes softened a little by his drink. He had ordered a sake bomb—a small glass of sake held over a beer by chopsticks. Unlike the others in the bar, who enjoyed slamming their hands on the table to make the sake cup fall into the beer, Shirabu just poured and stirred it. Grace, elegance. Fitting of him.   
   
 Semi eyed him.   
   
 Shirabu didn’t look away.   
   
 Jealousy or admiration?—Semi admired him.   
   
 Grace, elegance, but the eyes of a viper ready to kill.   
   
 Semi had ordered a cocktail, something with citrus liqueur, melon, and triple sec. It came in a—_    
   
 There was a knock on the door. A high pitch voice politely said, “Room service!”   
   
 Semi shot awake, groggy, with a low thrum in the back of his throat. “Wait, I’m!” Semi yawned. “Not dressed! I’m…” He paused for a second, looking up. “I don’t live in a hotel.”   
   
 There was a cackle before Semi heard someone retreat.   
   
 “Tendou?” Semi blinked once, before he realised—“Fuck! Tendou!” Semi curled back up in bed, body feeling heavy. “Hate him…” Semi grabbed a pillow, hugging it tight and closing his eyes.   
   
 Shirabu.   
   
 That’s right, Semi realised.  _We’re over._    
   
 There was another knock on the door. “Room s—”   
   
 “Shut the fuck up!”   
   
 Tendou cackled and burst the door open. “You wouldn’t believe your pants! If ten million fire ants—” He did finger guns at Semi. “—told you to get up, and go to school!”   
   
 Semi grabbed his phone, checking the time. “Fuck.” He forced himself out of bed.   
   
 “I woke you up, SemiSemi. Where’s my thank you kiss, hm?”   
   
 “Wouldn’t you prefer it from Ushiwaka?”   
   
 “Ah-” Tendou jolted, jaw dropping, cheeks reddening to match his hair.   
   
 Semi shoved him out of the way, taking the victory for himself. He got his morning routine on: a shower, a cup of coffee for breakfast, and one of the oatmeal-blueberry muffins that Ushijima loved baking as stress relief nowadays. He grabbed his books and headed to class, settling in with his camera next to his desk. It was only then, when he turned to Tendou, that he frowned.   
   
 Tendou smiled, books out, ready to take notes.   
   
 “You’re not in this class.”   
   
 “No I’m not!” Tendou grinned. “But let’s talk about you and Shirabubu, okay?”   
   
 Semi twitched and glanced to the professor who was setting up her lecture. “Let’s not.”   
   
 “You two…?”   
   
 “We’re over.”   
   
 “When?”   
   
 “Couple days ago. Why does it matter?”   
   
 “Because,” Tendou spoke quietly, “You two are perfect. Were perfect? Are perfect.”   
   
 “Not really.” Semi didn’t like the soft look on Tendou’s face. He didn’t want this, didn’t need this today.   
   
 “Yes really. You are. Were.”   
   
 Semi squinted. “Why? Why do you think we’re perfect?”   
   
 “Because. SemiSemi and Shirabubu! What’s more perfect than that?”   
   
 “That’s not enough of a reason to date someone.”   
   
 “I say it is.”   
   
 “Then you can date him, Tendoudou.”   
   
 Tendou snorted, far too loud, and grinned. “I don’t think so, but good try!”   
   
 “Shut up,” Semi murmured, noticing how a couple students were staring. “You’re not even supposed to be here. Let me at least learn in peace.”   
   
 “Maybe. Tell me why you broke up.”   
   
 “No reason. We just didn’t work out.”   
   
 “Liar liar, pants on fire ants.”   
   
 Semi shot him a glare.   
   
 Tendou just smiled.   
   
 * * *   
   
  _[Wakatoshi Ushijima, 12:02pm] Shirabu did not come to practice today.  
   
 [Wakatoshi Ushijima, 12:37pm] I just spoke to Satori. He informed me the two of you broke up. I’m sorry to hear about that.   
   
 [Wakatoshi Ushijima, 12:38pm] If you would like to talk about it, I offer my ear. I will be reaching out to him as well.   
   
 [Eita Semi, 12:51pm] don’t bother   
   
 [Wakatoshi Ushijima, 1:04pm] Which part?   
   
 [Eita Semi, 1:08pm] reaching out to him   
   
 [Eita Semi, 1:08pm] he’s not worth it.   
   
 [Wakatoshi Ushijima, 1:14pm] Oh._    
   
  [Wakatoshi Ushijima, 1:14pm] …I see.   
   
 * * *   
   
 “You would not believe your thighs,” sang Tendou as he walked into the room with large, choppy, exaggerated movements, like a cartoon, “If ten thousand butterflies—” He moved his arms up and down as he took large steps into their communal kitchen, “—Lit up the world as we kidnapped Semi!”   
   
 Semi looked up from his books and frowned. “Hah!?”   
   
 “Come on.” Tendou looked at him. “We’re taking you out.”   
   
 “It’s most likely invasive to ask without giving you notice,” Ushijima pointed out, “But you’ve been indoors and isolated for a worrying amount of time. Tendou wanted to go hiking today, so we thought we could invite you. Finals are coming up, so we won’t have a chance to enjoy good days like these later on.”   
   
 Semi stared at them before sighing. “Sure.” He closes his books. Truthfully, he wasn’t in the mood to hike, but the thought of wasting a surprisingly warm day on this chapter he didn’t really understand wasn’t that appealing.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi regretted it within minutes. Of course Ushijima would choose the hardest trail. Semi’s lungs heaved, burned. He was exhausted – out of shape. He remembered when he used to do laps and all for Shiratorizawa, and he didn’t really realise how out of shape he’d gotten since then.   
   
 Though his stamina wasn’t that bad.   
   
 His mind flashed back to Shirabu riding him, in the backseat of his car.   
   
 Semi scowled, angrily huffing as he stomped up the steps, passing the others.   
   
 “Uh, SemiSemi-senpai?”   
   
 Semi snapped his head back. “HAH!?”   
   
 Hinata jostled, almost falling backwards down the hill as he took a step back.   
   
 “Pfft.” Tendou appeared behind Hinata and gave him a squeeze. “He’s my fav! My little monster!”   
   
 Hinata looked between them. “Wh-What?”   
   
 “It’s Semi,” Ushijima murmured as he passed them. “Not SemiSemi.”   
   
 “A-Ah!” Hinata broke away from Tendou, face turning red. “You tricked me!”   
   
 Tendou broke into a fit of giggles. “I sure did!”   
   
 “Wha!” Hinata threw his hands in the air. “Bwah!”   
   
 Semi relaxed a little and continued up the trail.   
   
 * * *   
   
 At a pit stop, Semi had to use some nasty shack for the bathroom. The actual bathroom wasn’t that bad, inside, but the outside told him he was going to get murdered in there. When he was done his business, he washed his hands thoroughly. He stepped outside and Ushijima offered him a water bottle. He drank from it and took the moment to relax.   
   
 “You okay?” Hinata asked.   
   
 “Yeah. Just out of shape.”   
   
 Hinata smiled at that.   
   
 Tendou relaxed on the logs, legs stretched out. “Ugh, me too…”   
   
 “You guys should come play volleyball with us!” Hinata perked up. “We can always use more people for practice matches!”   
   
 “Maybe,” Tendou mused, but his eyes softened. “But, nah. My volleyball days are over. Semi might, but he and Shirabu aren’t talking right now.”   
   
 Semi shot him a glare.   
   
 Hinata looked at him. There was no surprise on his face, and Semi figured he was told already.   
   
 “He asks about you,” Ushijima murmured. “He’s not particularly doing well.”   
   
 “I don’t really care.” Semi sipped from the water bottle again. “I don’t have time for some fake ass bitch.” He saw the shock on their face and he turned away, going up the hill. The hike was almost over, anyway.   
   
 * * *   
   
 With finals coming up, Semi threw himself at his studies. It wasn’t that hard. This term had more tests than assignments, which was odd considering photography usually had final projects, but he figured studying was easier than trying to find something beautiful about the world right now. He focused on his textbooks, taking meticulous notes about everything. It was easier this way – just drown out the noise and focus on reality.   
   
 “You would not believe your breeches,” sang Tendou as he walked into the room with large, choppy, exaggerated movements, like a cartoon, “If hungry murderous leeches—” He moved his arms up and down as he took large steps into their communal kitchen, “—Killed your friends as you fell asleep!”   
   
 “Shut up!” Semi snapped.   
   
 Tendou paused, staring. “You’ve been really… testy lately.”   
   
 “I…” Semi bit his lip. “Yeah, I have. Sorry.”   
   
 Tendou walked over and put his hands on the table. “Are you okay?”   
   
 “I’m fine.”   
   
 “No, really. Are you okay?”   
   
 “I…” Semi took a deep breath and sighed. He looked down at his textbooks. “No,” he admitted. “But right now I have to focus on my exams. If I can get this out of the way… I can figure other things out, okay? I can’t deal with everything right now. I just… want to get this done. So I can move on.”   
   
 “Right, right.” Tendou looked at him. “But you don’t have anything else going on right now.”   
   
 Semi looked up at him, frowning.   
   
 “Well, I’m just saying…” Tendou smiled. “You broke up with Shirabu and apparently you’re completely over him, so there’s nothing else going on in your life except your finals.”   
   
 “Tendou.”   
   
 “Unless of course, you’re not over him.”   
   
 Semi sighed, exhausted, and leaned on his hand. “Tendou… it’s not that I’m not over him. I am.”   
   
 “Then what is it?”   
   
 “I’m over my feelings for him. I don’t care about him. I’m serious about that… I just hate him. I feel… I don’t know, betrayed? I don’t want to talk about it.”   
   
 “Hmm. Okay, but.” Tendou still smiled. “If you really were over him, you would be indifferent.”   
   
 Semi glared.   
   
 “No, I’m serious… If love is caring… then the opposite of love is indifference. If you hate him, that means a part of you still cares. Whether it’s about him, or you, or what you had, or how he affected you… If you hate him, then you’re not over it. Right?”   
   
 Semi’s jaw tensed.   
   
 “So, just do yourself a favour and admit it to yourself, ne?”   
   
 “I’ll admit it to myself,” Semi murmured, “After my finals.”   
   
 “Fine, fine.” Tendou threw his hands up, and they rested behind his head, fingers interlocked. “You go back to studying.”  
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi decided Tendou was right, even if he hated it when Tendou was right. Really, if there was a God out there, Tendou would never be right. Thus, this world was godless. When he sat down for his first final exam and it tested on a part the professor had specifically said would not be on the exam, Semi figured yeah the world was godless. The professor later removed the question from the exam in an email, though. So the jury was still out on that one.   
   
 After finishing his second final, Semi got a cup of coffee at the only good cafe on campus.   
   
 When he stepped out, his eyes caught—   
   
 Shirabu.   
   
 Semi tensed.   
   
 Shirabu glanced at him, making eye contact.   
   
 It lasted less than a second and—   
   
 Shirabu walked away, hurriedly.   
   
 Semi felt a pang inside him. Why? If all his feelings were was hate then…   
   
 Semi sighed.   
   
 * * *   
   
 That night, after Tendou finished his last final, he popped open a bottle of sake. Semi still had a couple finals left, at the end of the month, so he let himself have a small glass. One glass turned to two, and then three, and the next thing he knew Ushijima told him he probably shouldn’t drink anymore.   
   
 Semi figured he was drunk enough, anyway.   
   
 “What’s with you?” Tendou asked, a slur in his voice. “You’re even more pissed than usual.”   
   
 “Mm…” Semi looked up at the ceiling, admiring it or something. “I saw him today.”   
   
 “Who?”   
   
 Ushijima looked up from the cushion he had shoved his face into. “Shirabu?”   
   
 “Mm. Yeah.”   
   
 Tendou tilted his head. “Oh? Yeah?”   
   
 “Mm.” Semi kept staring at the ceiling. “I hate him… I hate him so fucking much… six months. I spent six months with him, and for what? Just to find out he’s a liar? That he’s an asshole? That he faked everything, and that he faked liking me, and he’s a stupid shitface who’s fucked up as fuck.”   
   
 Tendou blinked, staring.   
   
 Ushijima had lifted his head a little more.   
   
 “He lied,” Semi bitched. Damn. It felt good to bitch. “He lied about being in love with me, he lied about everything… He’s a liar, to me, to everyone… He tries so hard to be some prissy graceful fucktoy twink… but he’s as broken and savage as the rest of us. It pisses me off. He pisses me off. He couldn’t even admit how fucking broken he was to himself… Fuck. He’s so… shitty.”   
   
 Ushijima listened, not daring to speak.   
   
 Even Tendou was silent.   
   
 Semi closed his eyes. “I hope he fucking burns. I just…” He rolled over, into the couch. “I just want to stop thinking about him.”   
   
 * * *   
   
 Another drink, another drink. It felt good. It numbed the pain. Semi didn’t really think too much about it. Their campus was known for being loose on drinking, but Semi hadn’t thought much of it. After all, he spent most of his days with Ushijima and Tendou, and neither of them were much of party animals. Well. Not Ushijima. Over the past couple of years, Tendou had indeed come home drunk a few times. Semi usually found it amusing, mostly because Tendou would smoosh himself against Ushijima and compliment his muscles, tell him he smelled nice.   
   
 Ushijima would always do his best to care for Tendou in those moments, making sure he hydrated and was ready for bed.   
   
 Ushijima looked calm.   
   
 But Semi could see the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, uncertainty clouding his forehead with little lines.   
   
 Semi pushed those thoughts out of his mind for only a moment as he grabbed another drink.   
   
 Thoughts of relationships didn’t really sit well with him. Not anymore. Ironically, when he thought about it, he had a lot of things he didn’t want to think about. He just needed some kind of escape from it all. That wasn’t much of a crime was it?   
   
 He took another sip, letting the alcohol burn.   
   
 And it burned so damn good.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi wasn’t an idiot. He saw the warning signs, but he didn’t care. He drank. He kept drinking. He went to the parties he used to love in his first year, because of the life and the music and the people. Now he went for the drinks, so he could just drink and drink.   
   
 Semi’s father was alcoholic.   
   
 Semi had always asked, why drink? Why alcohol? Why addiction?   
   
 He could get it, kind of, now.   
   
 Semi felt like he was a street of broken glass, broken bottles, barb wire, broken concrete… When he drank, though, it smoothed everything out. It smoothed it out, let him think, like pouring concrete over it all. The perfect painkiller. But those little pieces, of glass, broken bottles, barb wire… eventually they broke through the new layer, and began to scratch at him again.   
   
 So he would drink more.   
   
 Semi’s father was alcoholic.   
   
 Semi had always asked, why drink? Why alcohol? Why addiction?   
   
 Semi knew why, now.   
   
 Semi had never asked, why pain?   
   
 Semi couldn’t count the amount of times he threw up, saying no more, no more.   
   
 But he kept going back.   
   
 It was easy since, with finals ending, there were so many parties. As far as Semi was concerned, his grades were flawless, his roommates didn’t know, and he was hiding it all under wraps and covers. He only had one final left. He felt like he could keep it this way, but—   
   
 He kept needing more concrete to pour over the broken shards.   
   
 A few drinks weren’t enough anymore.   
   
 * * *   
   
 “Hey man,” a slurred voice rang in his ear.   
   
 Semi closed his eyes, sighing. He knew this guy. Some fucker he had slept with because he was buying drinks at a club, a week back. “I’m good,” he said as coldly as he could.   
   
 The man frowned. “Hey, I thought we had something.”   
   
 “I’m fine.” Semi glared. His eyes were a blur. The bass of the party music blasted at him. He was starting to hate this scene entirely. “Leave me alone.”   
   
 “Hey, look, Semi—”   
   
 “He said fuck off,” came another voice.   
   
 The man turned and frowned. “Fine, whatever.” He left.   
   
 Semi closed his eyes, sighing. “Shirabu.” He tried not to make it sound like a whine; after all, he didn’t want anyone he knew seeing him like this (Shirabu least of all).   
   
 Shirabu’s eyes were soft on him, though. “You’re drunk.”   
   
 “So are you,” Semi pointed out.   
   
 Shirabu’s eyes were misty, and he swayed a little in the kitchen of some dorm. “Mm.”   
   
 “Well.” Semi looked away. “Never expected a pretty boy to come and save me.”   
   
 “You’re a pretty boy too, Semi.”   
   
 “Hm.” Semi raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”   
   
 “Of course.” Shirabu stepped closer, too close. “My type is pretty boys.”   
   
 Semi could smell Shirabu’s cologne; it was lighter, and woodsy, and it smelled like home. “And Ushijima.”   
   
 “Well.” Shirabu smiled. “Everyone’s hot for Ushijima.”   
   
 “True.”   
   
 They stared at each other for a little while, and Semi couldn’t take it anymore. “What are you even doing here?”   
   
 “I don’t know,” Shirabu admitted quietly. “You?”   
   
 Semi’s jaw tightened. “I have no idea.”   
   
 “Kiss me?”   
   
 “Mm.”   
   
 Shirabu’s eyes were pleading.   
   
 Semi couldn’t resist.   
   
 Their lips met, and Semi pushed him back, against the cupboards. Shirabu wrapped his arms around Semi’s neck, and they fell into their old ways. Semi knew he would blame it on the drinks later, but he knew he wanted this – sober, he probably wouldn’t resist either. He just wanted to forget. He wanted to forget for a little bit.   
   
 “Mm.” Shirabu broke the kiss, moving his lips near Semi’s ear. “Fuck me.”   
   
 “Shirabu…” Semi backed away to stare at him. “That’s…” No, that was too far, that was— “That’s a bad idea.”   
   
 “If you don’t, someone else will.” Shirabu pulled him closer. “I’d prefer it if it was you.”   
   
 Semi realised he would too.   
   
 * * *   
   
 The morning after was lidded with a hangover that crushed every one of his thoughts. Semi nestled into the warmth of Shirabu, taking in his scent. It was like old times; he envied the days, back then, like this, that he would wake up with Shirabu’s arms wrapped around him. He wondered, quietly, if he would get those forehead kisses Shirabu used to wake him up.   
   
 He didn’t.   
   
 Shirabu stiffened, signaling he probably realised where they were and what had happened.   
   
 Semi got up, not saying anything.   
   
 Shirabu was fine with that.   
   
 There was a slight walk of shame when Semi stepped out of Shirabu’s room to see Yahaba sipping tea, looking at him, and Semi cleared his throat as he left.   
   
 They didn’t say anything.   
   
 That was for the best.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Ushijima studied meticulously, with a highlighter and information boxes, and Semi always felt like he needed to pretty up his notes when he studied next to him. Moniwa, who Semi recognised as the short captain of Datekou, was in Ushijima’s kinestheology program. He studied with them. The three of them were more of the quiet type, and it was a productive atmosphere.   
   
 Semi knew he was just distracting himself with studying. His cravings were getting stronger, but he managed to focus.   
   
 Just distract himself. That’s all he had to do.   
   
 There was a loud hum, from a bored Tendou, who didn’t need to study since he was done, but they ignored him.   
   
 * * *   
   
  _Just distract yourself.  
   
 That’s all I have to do._    
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi had been studying in the library a couple days later. Goshiki had come to visit Tendou, and the two of them were way too loud in the apartment to drown out noise. Semi liked the library, honestly.   
   
 No one disturbed him.   
   
 Except—   
   
 Semi’s eyes flicked to the side, because he saw someone approaching him with speed.   
   
 “Fuck you!” Shirabu yelled, thrashing his cup of coffee at Semi.   
   
 “What the—” Semi screamed as lukewarm coffee splashed all over him—”What the fuck!?”   
   
 Shirabu said nothing, but his glare was icy hot.   
   
 And Semi shivered under the gaze.   
   
 Shirabu turned around, stomping off.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Needless to say, Semi was thoroughly confused. He tried texting Shirabu, but got no reply. Luckily his books weren’t wet, but his clothes were. He went home and Tendou offered to take his clothes to the communal washer and dryer, since he was going to wash his clothes anyway. Semi thanked him and took a shower.   
   
 He thought he heard Tendou get back at some point, but he didn’t think much about it.   
   
 Now dressed, he was inspecting his books for damage but it looked like they were fine. His camera too, thank god, because that cost way too much.   
   
 The door opened.   
   
 Semi looked up. “Hey Ten—”   
   
 “Here!” Shirabu yelled, throwing clothes and other things at him.   
   
 “What the—”   
   
 He threw and threw.   
   
 “Shirabu—”   
   
 “Here’s all your shit! All the things you left at my place!” Shirabu threw until there was nothing left. He glared at Semi (who was buried under about four or five hoodies, a pair of jeans, and three shirts). “There! We’re done for good—just as you wanted! You never need anything from me again!”   
   
 Semi blinked. “Shirabu… what the  _fuck?”_    
   
 “What the fuck?” Shirabu echoed, “How about you explain what the fuck was going through your mind when you bitched me out!”   
   
 Semi frowned. “I have no idea what’s going on.”   
   
 “I had no idea why Ushijima stopped talking to me! Or Tendou! Or anyone! Of course you were why!”   
   
 Semi’s frown turned to a scowl. “What the fuck are you talking about?”   
   
 “Look. I might’ve been a liar. I might’ve been fake, yeah! You can hate me, you can throw me aside. I don’t care. I deserve it—I deserve it all. But I showed you my most vulnerable side, my biggest, darkest secrets… and you  _attacked_ it. I showed you what I didn’t dare show anyone else—and you tore me down!”   
   
 Semi opened his mouth to speak—   
   
 “But I don’t care about that!” Shirabu forced himself to breathe. “But the way you’re talking shit behind my back, telling Tendou and Ushiwaka about everything is something else! Yeah, I’m a fake, a bitch, an asshole… I’m shallow, and useless, and  _pathetic,_  so you can stop caring about me! That’s fine! But… you didn’t have to break my whole world to prove your fucking point!”   
   
 Semi frowned, when the fuck did he—   
   
  _“He lied,” Semi bitched. Damn. It felt good to bitch. “He lied about being in love with me, he lied about everything… He’s a liar, to me, to everyone…”_    
   
 Oh.   
   
 Shirabu kicked one of the shirts that didn’t make it far from him when he threw it. He turned and left, stomping off.   
   
 Semi pulled a grey shirt from off his head and glanced at it.   
   
 And, there, a quiet little… “You wouldn’t believe your cloth,” Tendou whispered from behind the door, “If ten hundred moths…”   
   
 Semi looked at the doorway, seeing Tendou peek in. “That doesn’t count.”   
   
 “No, it doesn’t. I’m running out of things, actually.” Tendou popped his head in a little bit more. “And yeah… I was here… heard the whole thing…”   
   
 Semi looked at himself, and slowly began taking off the clothes piled on him.   
   
 “Well.” Tendou looked at him, still. “I bet you feel dumb now.”   
   
 Semi noticed his favourite hoodie smelled like Shirabu now. “I want…”   
   
 “What?” Tendou tilted his head. When no answer came, he prompted again with, “What do you want?”   
   
 “I want… to make things…” Semi looked at his hoodie. “I want to make things… better.”   
   
 Tendou blinked once. “And how are you going to do that?”   
   
 “I don’t know.” Semi looked at him, eyes softening. “I have no idea. But. I want to do something.”


	3. Equilibrious Homeostasis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can always hit me up on [Tumblr (Remembrance123)](remembrance123.tumblr.com), [Twitter (Remembrance123)](https://twitter.com/Remembrance123), Skype (remmy-rem), Discord (RemRem#8656) or even here on AO3! I'm going to be posting a fic/chapter/update once a week (either Saturday or Sunday), so if you enjoyed my writing style feel free to keep supporting. <3
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the last chapter.
> 
> * * *

 Semi wasn’t a creep—well, not really. He had noticed it by accident, actually. That Shirabu always seemed to come to the coffee shop around one in the afternoon. That had been when Semi got off class, and he assumed Shirabu’s schedule must have aligned.   
   
 Their new schedules.   
   
 December had come and gone, and the next term had started.   
   
 He’d spent the time off at home, doing his best to make amends with his father. Both of his parents were surprised by it, but his father had actually joined them for Christmas, instead of being cooped up in the basement, to his own devices, outcast, thrown out.   
   
 Semi hadn’t touched another drink since.   
   
 Well, there was one beer Tendou offered him when they met up on New Year’s Eve with Moniwa and Ushiwaka. The drink tasted sweet, despite how bitter it was, and Semi refused a second drink after he drank the first a little too quickly.   
   
 It had only been two or so weeks, Semi’s descent into drinking, and it was hard to pull away. He gained a sense of empathy for his father, who must have struggled for so many years, to the point where being sober must have been a struggle by itself. He learned his father had been going to treatment—had been for some time, but nobody talked about it. Shame. He was too ashamed to tell.   
   
 Semi sipped his coffee, black. Bitter. Burned, slightly, since some of the new staff were still in training.   
   
 Shirabu walked by, grabbing his latte and heading out without noticing him.   
   
 That was fine.   
   
 It became a thing that happened a couple times a week.   
   
 Semi just watched, watched him, thinking. He thought about how broken Shirabu was, and how broken he—himself—was.   
   
 “A bit like the pot calling the kettle black,” Semi murmured one day.   
   
 He usually sat by the fountain, outside, in front of the coffee shop. It was one of the few open spaces on their campus, the benches were a bit too cold for some people to sit, but Semi was fine with his cup of coffee.   
   
 Shirabu noticed him one day, eyes turning as frosty as the snowflakes that fell (though they never hung around enough to make it a white Christmas).   
   
 Semi offered a smile.   
   
 Ever so slightly, Shirabu’s eyes widened. His glare returned and he walked off.   
   
 So much rage, so much hate. So many lies to cover it up. So many attempts to conceal the pain that forged that rage and hate, that forged all the imperfections.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi was content with watching for a while, thinking about the best way to talk to Shirabu again. Shirabu’s glares became less pointed with time, and Semi figured that was progress – sort of. Semi, of course, was busy with assignments and papers and quizzes, tests, so he wasn’t particularly in a rush to fix everything.   
   
 Until one day.   
   
 Semi felt a pang in his chest; it crunched and scratched, squeezing his heart almost as bad as when they broke up.   
   
 Shirabu was with another man.   
   
 Oh.   
   
 Semi watched from afar, from his seat on the bench next to the fountain. The guy—Semi didn’t recognise him—was quite touchy-feely, and it was obvious Shirabu was annoyed by it, but not too annoyed.   
   
 Semi wondered, was he and Shirabu like that, when they were together?   
   
 “Can you stop staring?” Shirabu quipped one day.   
   
 Semi blinked; he had been lost in thought, and he hadn’t even seen Shirabu approach. “What?”   
   
 “Yeah. I’ve got another boyfriend, another accessory.” Shirabu shrugged. “You don’t have to glare at me from across the fucking yard.”   
   
 “I wasn’t glaring.”   
   
 “Oh?”   
   
 “I’m… happy for you.” Semi drowned himself in his coffee, feeling as though it tasted more bitter than usual. “I’m glad.”   
   
 “No you’re not. Liar.”   
   
 “No, I’m not.” Semi looked up, eyes soft. “I’ve got a lot of regrets.”   
   
 Shirabu raised an eyebrow, arms crossed, but holding his coffee cup. “Wanted to slander me some more?”   
   
 “I was wrong,” Semi admitted. “I was hurt, and I was drunk, and I didn’t think about anything but me.”   
   
 Shirabu stiffened a little, jaw tight. “Well…” His shoulders slumped a little. “Tendou started talking to me again, and Ushiwaka did tell me you confronted him about it…”   
   
 Semi gave a small nod.   
   
 “Well. That’s that.” Shirabu was about to walk away, but he paused. “You… uh.” He scrunched up his lips and wiggled it from one side to the other. “You look better than you did before. Bye.”   
   
 “Bye.”   
   
 * * *   
   
 “You have not flipped a page in over five minutes.”   
   
 Semi’s eyes closed and he let out a soft huff. “Yeah…”   
   
 Ushijima did not look up from his books as he had made his comment. He continued solving advanced tri-quadratic* equations. “I would assume that means you zoned out. Perhaps you should rest.”   
   
 “It’s not that. I just can’t focus.” Semi got up and stretched. “Want something to drink?”   
   
 “Water. Thank you.”   
   
 Semi grabbed Ushijima’s glass and walked over to the sink. He turned the knob and let the water get cold before he filled the glass.   
   
 “What are you thinking about?”   
   
 “Mm.” Semi’s eyes softened. “Shirabu.”   
   
 Ushijima’s pencil stopped moving. “I see.” He continued his equations. “Can I ask if you still love him?”   
   
 Semi filled a glass with water for himself. “I do.”   
   
 “—Boom!” Tendou popped out from the hallway. “Called it!”   
   
 Semi ignored him. He could let him have his victory. After all, he wasn’t wrong. No, Tendou hadn’t been wrong about most things. He walked back over to the table and put the two glasses down.   
   
 “Thank you.”   
   
 Tendou zoomed in and leaned on Semi. “So, when are you going to ask him out?”   
   
 “That,” Ushijima cut in (again, eyes never leaving his books), “Would be quite problematic. He has a new romantic partner now.”   
   
 Tendou perked up, looking furiously between Semi and Ushijima.   
   
 “It’s true.” Semi glanced back to his textbooks. “I still care about him. I want him. But he’s happy with another person, and I am not going to get involved.”   
   
 “Wh—” Tendou frowned. “Go get him anyway!”   
   
 Semi shook his head.   
   
 “Wakatoshi!” Tendou cast a glance at him. “Convince him to do something!”   
   
 “Well…” Ushijima put his pencil down and looked up at Semi. They made eye contact and Ushijima hummed quietly. “I don’t think I need to state that I am, by no means, an expert in any forms of interpersonal relationships. My attention to collective dynamics and my social skills are not as strong as either of you… but, from my observations, I would not particularly say Shirabu is happy in this new relationship.”   
   
 One of Semi’s eyebrow went up.   
   
 Both of Tendou’s eyebrows went up.   
   
 “Still.” Semi rubbed his neck. “That doesn’t give me the right to steal him away.”   
   
 “Of course not, and he would eventually resent you if you did.” Ushijima nodded. “But I don’t think there is any harm in informing him of how you feel. You wouldn’t be stealing him or forcing him… you may be complicating his life, but perhaps that is for the better.”   
   
 “Yeah.” Tendou nodded. “As long as it’s Shirabu’s decision in the end, then it’s all good and dandy, right?”   
   
 “Uh.” Semi bit his lip. “I mean, I guess…”   
   
 “Don’t just  _guess,_  SemiSemi! You gotta agree!”   
   
 Semi shot him a glare.   
   
 Tendou laughed. “You know!” His grin was infectious. “You and Shirabu have the same reactions to my bullshit. That’s the real reason I think you two make a good pair. The SemiSemi and Shirabubu match is supplementary evidence. But you’re good for him, and he’s good for you.”   
   
 “I agree,” added Ushijima. “I admit I do not… entirely understand why you broke up, or what the fight was about… But when it was good, it was very good. For both of you.”   
   
 Semi’s eyes softened and he looked down.   
   
 “SemiSemi,” Tendou whispered.   
   
 “What?”   
   
 “Do you think he still likes you?”   
   
  _“No, I’m serious,”_  Tendou had said,  _“If love is caring… then the opposite of love is indifference. If you hate him, that means a part of you still cares. Whether it’s about him, or you, or what you had, or how he affected you… If you hate him, then you’re not over it. Right?”_    
   
 Semi’s eyes drifted to the side. “I think so.”   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi took a walk later that night, finding his mind clearer after wandering the campus. Winter’s darkness was a little unnerving, but there was comfort in the lifelessness of campus at this hour. It was probably past one or two in the morning. But he needed to get out. Needed to walk. Needed to clear his head, think it over.   
   
 Semi had his favourite hoodie on. The scent of Shirabu had long faded since, but he could still remember it.   
   
 Shirabu.   
   
 Semi paused for a second. The white headphones in his ear began playing a song that Shirabu had recommended to him. It was soft, with a piano opening rift. He looked up to the night sky, unable to find the stars with the light of the buildings around him, but he knew they were there. After all, sometimes Semi just had to believe, right?   
   
 * * *   
   
 Semi had his doubts, but it was when Tendou asked him to come watch the first practice match of the term that Semi had seen the sight that he longed for—   
   
 He was gleaming, maybe glowing; he was drenched in sweat, focused, exhaustion littering his face – but most of all was that look of determination, the scrunch of his nose. It came off as anger, and Semi knew there was anger definitely there – but it was the raw focus, raw determination, that made him look that way.   
   
 Ushijima spiked, clean.   
   
 Hinata messed up his hair. “I thought the ball was going for me!”   
   
 The two blockers who had been chasing him sighed, clearly thinking the same.   
   
 Shirabu was amused, but his smile fell when he glanced at the audience and made eye contact with Semi.   
   
 Semi felt, suddenly, singled out.   
   
 As if all the light in the room had been swallowed, leaving only two spotlights—one for Shirabu, one for him—in its wake.   
   
 Shirabu’s rage broke his elegant expression once more, and he glanced away.   
   
 Tendou glanced sidelong at Semi. “Was he glaring at you or me?”   
   
 “Shut up, Tendou.”   
   
 Tendou cracked a smile.   
   
 * * *   
   
 After the practice match, Semi had been walking towards the exit when he heard stomping footsteps coming from behind. Well. He knew Shirabu well enough by now to know those were his. He spun around, trying to come off as unthreatening as possible.   
   
 “Stop it!” Shirabu yelled, thrashing his arms at air. “Stop staring at me all the time! It’s distracting!”   
   
 “Sorry.”   
   
 “You don’t sound sorry.”   
   
 “I’m not.” Semi put his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “I just always focus on the setter, and you were much better than the other team’s setter.”   
   
 Shirabu seemed entirely put off and unsatisfied by that response. He turned around and stormed off, not even seeing the orange haired boy who tried talking to him.   
   
 Hinata blinked and looked between Semi and Shirabu.   
   
 Semi glanced at him.   
   
 Hinata stiffened a bit. “Er. Ushijima-san sent me after Shirabu-san, and uh… he said Shirabu-san was going to, er, pick a fight.”   
   
 “Yeah.” Semi nodded. “I didn’t take his bait, so he walked off.”   
   
 “Right.” Hinata bit his lip. “H-Hey, um. Semi-senpai?”   
   
 “What?”   
   
 “You and Shirabu… you two were, uh…” He raised his hands and then poked his two index fingers together. “L-Like, uh…?”   
   
 “Together?”   
   
 “Yeah!”   
   
 “We used to be.”   
   
 “And now he’s got this other guy…” Hinata deflated a little. “I don’t like him.”   
   
 Semi raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with him?”   
   
 “I suppose there’s nothing, like, wrong with him. But he’s uh, I played him in high school! He’s a setter, and his twin brother is a wing spiker. And, um. Anyway! I just think… uh. Way back when, he said some things to Kageyama and that made Kageyama kind of, lose balance for a bit? I think he has a way of uh, getting under people’s skin?”   
   
 Semi kept his eyebrow raised. “Getting under people’s skin?”   
   
 “Like, um. Playfully?” Hinata swayed left and right. “And I think…” He paused. “I think some people, like you, are good at kind of… being the calm in the storm, the anchor, when Shirabu-san gets angry… but some people, like Miya-san, kind of get pulled into the storm? And they make it worse and stuff. I’m not saying he’s a bad guy or anything—”   
   
 “Is,” Semi cut in, “Is Shirabu happy?”   
   
 Hinata deflated.   
   
 Semi’s eyes softened. “I see.”   
   
 * * *   
   
 It never left Semi’s mind.   
   
 That one sight.   
   
 He was gleaming, maybe glowing; he was drenched in sweat, focused, exhaustion littering his face – but most of all was that look of determination, the scrunch of his nose. It came off as anger, and Semi knew there was anger definitely there – but it was the raw focus, raw determination, that made him look that way.   
   
 Fire, ever bright.   
   
 That image of Shirabu never left Semi, no matter how much he willed it away. But, maybe, it wasn’t supposed to go away. Semi hummed. Maybe. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to go away.   
   
 * * *   
   
 Tendou cackled and burst the door open. “You wouldn’t believe your shoes! If—”   
   
 “I want him back.” Semi turned around, staring at Tendou. “I’m… not entirely sure what I’m going to do but, I want to tell him. I want to tell him how I feel, about him, about me, about everything. All these thoughts I’ve been thinking… I just want him to know… I want him to know where I stand.”   
   
 Tendou paused, arms dropping. He tilted his head and a small smile formed on his lips. “SemiSemi?”   
   
 “Yeah?”   
   
 “It’s about fucking time. Ne?”   
   
 * * *   
   
 “Uh.” Yahaba stared up when he opened the door. “Semi-san?”   
   
 “Is.” Semi took a deep breath. “Is Shirabu home?”   
   
 “Yeah, one sec.” Yahaba gave a little nod and left.   
   
 Semi wasn’t invited in, so he just stayed outside. It was cold, it had snowed earlier, but now it was fine. He was on the second floor, an outdoor walkway between different dorm rooms. He walked to the railing and leaned on it. The cold of the metal stung against his arms.   
   
 “Semi.”   
   
 Semi turned, taking a deep breath.   
   
 “Look…” Shirabu was zipping up a sleeveless vest over his hoodie. “This has got to end.” He walked next to Semi and looked over the railing. “The way you look at me, the way you watch my games, the way you always want to talk to me… it’s got to end. I’ve got a new boyfriend now, a new relationship, I can’t have you keep clinging to me like this.”   
   
 “You’re right. It’s got to end.” Semi nodded. “That’s kind of what this is about.”   
   
 Shirabu eyed him, cold fear swirling in his dull brown eyes.   
   
 “Shirabu.” Semi faced him, fully. “I can’t keep dancing around this. You’re trying hard to move on. I respect that. Maybe you’ve already moved on—and I’m just dragging you back, but… I still have feelings for you. I still think about you. I still want to be with you.”   
   
 Shirabu’s eyes widened, his mouth opened, but—   
   
 “Listen,” Semi whispered.   
   
 Shirabu’s shut his mouth.   
   
 “Shirabu… you deserve better. I should’ve said this before you found someone. It puts you in a shitty place, and I acknowledge that right now… I’m not the best person for putting you in this spot. But, I love you.” Semi smiled, feeling a weight off his shoulders. “I fucking love you, Shirabu. And I still want to be with you. And—”   
   
 “ _Enough,_  Semi.” Shirabu’s eyes watered and he was shaking his head. “Enough. I’m not. I can’t. I…”   
   
 “Okay.” Semi nodded. “That’s how it is then. I just couldn’t let it go until I got those words off my chest.”   
   
 “Semi…” Shirabu screwed his eyes shut. “Why are you doing this to me?”   
   
 Semi blinked. “I’m just—”   
   
 Shirabu turned away and moved towards his door, but paused.   
   
 Semi glanced over and his shoulders tensed.   
   
 “Uh…” Atsumu Miya stood at the doorway, looking between them. “I mean, you didn’t exactly close the door… and Yahaba started sneezing because it was cold… and uh, Kyoutani would kill us if we got his boyfriend sick… so I went to, uh…”   
   
 “Close the door,” Shirabu completed, “And you overheard everything.”   
   
 “Yeah.” Atsumu gave a small shrug. He was obviously freezing, but he put a smile on anyway. “Look, Ken, if you wanna fuck him too – that’s fine by me. I don’t care.” He glanced to Semi. “I mean, he’s a little slut anyway, right?”   
   
 Semi’s eyes narrowed. “What the fuck are you—”   
   
 “Semi,” Shirabu cut in.   
   
 “Whoa.” Atsumu shivered from the cold as he raised his shoulders up defensively. “They’re his words not mine. He likes being called a little slut. That’s what he is.”   
   
 Semi looked at Shirabu.   
   
 Shirabu sighed, putting his hand on his face. “Look, it doesn’t matter—okay?” He turned back to Semi. “That’s all I am, anyway. Just a fuck for a guy to use. That’s the same reason you’re coming back to me—isn’t it? People want what they can’t have. You got over your issues enough to use my ass again, isn’t that it?”   
   
 “Stop it,” Semi whispered.   
   
 Shirabu glared. “Stop what?”   
   
 “Self-destructing. Self-sabotaging. Self… whatever the fuck you want to call it.” Semi’s eyes narrowed. “You’re running around, ruining your life, and now you’re ruining mine!”   
   
 “I’ll never be anything, Semi,” Shirabu hissed. “I’ll never be anything, so I don’t care!”   
   
 Atsumu bristled from the cold, awkwardly wiggling for warmth.   
   
 “You do care!” Semi shot back, “You care more than anyone else, you liar! You’re a goddamn liar because you do care and you did love me!”   
   
 “Wh-What?” Shirabu took a step back. “Semi—”   
   
 “You said you didn’t, but the more I think back to what we had—the more I think you did. Ushijima kept saying you were asking about me. The day at the party, you saw how wrecked I was and you came for me. You can cover it up all you want, you can destroy yourself all you want, but that won’t stop the fact you care! About people! About yourself! About me!”   
   
 “Oh fuck you!” Shirabu took a step back and huffed. “I’m not your little, perfect, fucking fantasy!”   
   
 “You’re right! You’re not!” Semi yelled back, “I fucked up! I saw you as something you weren’t, and I never double-checked—I never tried to see the real you… and I had the audacity to get  _offended_  when you weren’t what I thought you were!”   
   
 Shirabu took another step back, shaking his head. “You’re lying… this whole thing is a lie. You’re mad at me. You hate me, for what I did to you. You’re just trying to get back at me. That’s all this is.”   
   
 “It’s not!” Semi took a deep breath, body heaving with the breath out. “Listen… I was hurt. I was destroyed… I lived my life putting up walls, protecting myself, never getting close… I dismiss  _everything._  God, you have  _no idea_  the struggle Tendou had to take to make me admit I liked you, and then he had to do it again when I had to realise I liked you again… Because that’s how I am. I never had that family, that trust, that feeling of being safe… I was broken. I am broken.”   
   
 Shirabu’s eyes softened.   
   
 “I’ve had my trust betrayed so many times,” Semi went on, “And I finally found something with you. I found something safe, warm, happy— _we were happy._  And, it was because of  _my own_  brokenness that I hated you. I saw it as you lying… as tricking me… as playing some big game on me, as breaking my trust… I never realised it was just because you were broken too, and you wanted that feeling of safety so badly that you would sell yourself to lies.”   
   
 Shirabu stiffened.   
   
 “I pressed that on you,” Semi murmured, “I pressed my false view on you, forced you to live by some standards that weren’t you.”   
   
 “I put that image up,” Shirabu whispered. “I created that prison.”   
   
 “And I forced you deeper inside it.”   
   
 Shirabu’s eyes fell.   
   
 “I’m sorry.” Semi looked down as well. “I’m sorry… You hurt me, once, when we broke up… but I hurt you every day—I was hurting you every single day, because I…” Semi looked up. “I know you loved me. I knew how you felt about me. I just had no idea how you felt about yourself, and the lengths you would go to make sure I would never know.”   
   
 Shirabu rubbed the sleeve of his hoodie against his eyes. “Stop.” He shook his head. “I can’t do this. I cant, I—” He turned towards the doorway again, freezing at the eye contact.   
   
 “Shit,” Atsumu murmured calmly despite the cold. “If you have someone who cares for you this much…”   
   
 “Atsumu,” Shirabu whispered.   
   
 “It’s okay.” Atsumu smiled, an honest smile. “I think you and I would have worked out, but I figured pretty early on… your heart wasn’t with me. It was fun while it lasted, but… I’ll give you guys space, okay?”   
   
 Shirabu’s eyes softened.   
   
 They vaguely heard a sound that was Yahaba sneezing.   
   
 Atsumu stepped back, closing the door behind him.   
   
 Shirabu exhaled through his nose. “I’m… a mess.”   
   
 “So am I.”   
   
 Shirabu cracked a smile. “I don’t deserve you.” He looked up. “I don’t deserve anyone.”   
   
 “Kenjirou.”   
   
 Shirabu took a deep breath, airway shaking as he did. His tears were building up, still, in the corner of his eyes. “Semi…”   
   
 Semi stepped closer, unable to take it anymore. He pulled Shirabu in, pulling him into an embrace, a hug. He instantly dove his head into the crook of Shirabu’s neck, hiding himself there.   
   
 Shirabu did the same. “Eita…”   
   
 “Kenjirou…” Semi nuzzled into the warmth. “I know I’m asking for a lot, but… can we just… pick up, where we left off, all those months ago?”   
   
 “And, what?” Shirabu gave a sharp laugh. “Just, forget our fight?”   
   
 “I don’t want to forget it,” Semi admitted. “I learned a lot from it.”   
   
 “Mm.” Shirabu began shaking and he shoved himself deeper against Semi. “It was… s-so hard. Putting up… that, illusion, in front of you… I wanted to tell you… about… the real me. Not the fake side… I’m so tired of it.”   
   
 “You’ve shown me your real side a few times,” Semi said with a small smile. “I liked those times.”   
   
 Shirabu laughed, suddenly; warm, blooming.   
   
 Semi backed away a little, looking at him.   
   
 “Ironically… that’s.” Shirabu had tears in his eyes, but his smile was picture perfect. “That’s the part of me that doesn’t try so hard, that doesn’t care.” He looked up, letting tears fall. “Whenever I felt safe, whenever I felt like you wouldn’t judge me… I let you see the real me… I let you see me angry, raging, crying… I stopped caring about how I was presenting myself. I… stopped all this bullshit. I was… really myself around you.” Shirabu closed his eyes, pushing himself into Semi’s chest. “That’s what attracted me to you in the first place.”   
   
 Semi kissed his forehead, and hugged him tighter.   
   
 * * *   
   
 There is a photo on Semi’s camera, of Shirabu—mid-toss. If he had titled the photo in high school, maybe he would have called it “The boy who didn’t care”. If he titled it that now, though, he was sure… he was absolutely sure that title was a lie.   
   
 Semi thought of oceans.   
   
 How the water’s surface could be calm, or raging, but what happened in the depths below couldn’t quite be seen. Shirabu always seemed like a raging fire, bright, burning—ever visible. But maybe he was more of a rolling ocean, lidden with unknowns, with dark decrepit terrors. But, Semi thought about it more, didn’t everyone have some kind of dark terror inside them?   
   
 The world was…   
   
 Semi smiled to himself.   
   
 It’s funny how the world worked. In high school, Shirabu was Semi’s dream, while Semi was just someone Shirabu didn’t delete off Facebook because of occasional summer shirtless selfies. Then, Semi became all Shirabu could think about, while Semi honestly couldn’t give a shit if Shirabu existed or not.   
   
 Except, that wasn’t true.   
   
 Shirabu had always cared, always had nerve-wracking anxiety over taking Semi’s spot, and lingering hate and resentment.   
   
 Semi, too, despite all the fake indifference, had never stopped caring. And—in honesty—it felt good admit that.   
   
 * * *   
   
 “Satori?” Ushijima knocked on the door before stepping into the dark bedroom. “You need to get up.”   
   
 “Mm.” Tendou rolled over and frowned. “I can’t.”   
   
 Ushijima tilted his head. “Is something wrong?”   
   
 “Well.” Tendou sighed. He was laying on his back. He stared at the ceiling. “You know how I always do my song? Like, you wouldn’t believe your pants, if ten thousand fire ants?”   
   
 “I am aware, yes. The song about fireflies that Bokuto-san sent you, because it had something to do with owls?”   
   
 “Yeah. That’s the one.”   
   
 “Then what is wrong, Satori?”   
   
 “I can’t think of anything.”   
   
 Ushijima turned to sit on the edge of the bed. “I see.” He frowned. “I suppose you have been doing that for months now. It must be more difficult as many of the options have been used up.”   
   
 “Yeah… Maybe, like. Uh. Beetles?” He scrunched up his nose. “Meetles? Keetles… Feet-les?” Tendou sighed. “That won’t work.”   
   
 “No, it won’t.” Ushijima hummed. “This is quite challenging.”   
   
 Tendou sat up, cracking a smile. “You’re taking this seriously, ne?”   
   
 “It’s clearly upsetting you,” Ushijima pointed out. “So I would like to assist, yes.”   
   
 Tendou grinned. “Thanks Wakatoshi. You’re the real miracle boy.”   
   
 “Perhaps you should save the compliments for after I think of…” Ushijima trailed off. “Hair, and bears, maybe?”   
   
 Tendou’s eyes lit up. “Wakatoshi!” He grabbed Ushijima’s face and kissed him.   
   
 Ushijima’s eyes flared open at the kiss, but he quickly closed his eyes and attempted to figure out the underlying mechanics of kissing.   
   
 Tendou pulled away and saw how Ushijima’s face was bright red. Wow. What a nice colour. He grinned. “Thanks!” He threw his blanket off himself and threw himself out the door.   
   
 Ushijima tensed. “Satori—”   
   
 “You!” Tendou sang as he threw himself into the kitchen, “Wouldn’t believe your hairs!” He sung deep and low, as if he was an opera singer performing for millions. “If ten! Thousand! Grizzly bears—” He moved his arms outwards, wide, as if he owned the world. “—Lit! Up! The world! As you fell…” Tendou paused, suddenly. Staring.   
   
 Shirabu, sitting in Semi’s lap, pulled away and turned at him.   
   
 Semi, too, stared at him.   
   
 Tendou stood still.   
   
 Ushijima entered the kitchen. “Y-Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I was going to inform you that Shirabu and Semi were… engaged in romantic activities. In our kitchen.”   
   
 “And,” Shirabu murmured, “You ruined it.”   
   
 Semi glared.   
   
 “You’re back together?” Tendou looked between them. “I mean, uh, obviously—and uh, oh! Look!” He grabbed Ushijima’s arm. “See! They gave me the same exact glare when I’m back on my bullshit! Their faces are identical! Soulmates, I’m telling you!”   
   
 Semi cleared his throat. “Ushiwaka, are you okay?”   
   
 Tendou turned to Ushijima, noticing his face was still bright red.   
   
 “I…” Ushijima took a shaky breath.   
   
 Shirabu slipped off Semi’s lap and stood up. “I’m sorry if us making out made you, uncomfortable… This is your home too.”   
   
 “No, I don’t.” Ushijima searched for words. “Satori has recently kissed me and I am having trouble thinking coherently, because it was an enjoyable experience.”   
   
 “Oh.” Semi smirked. “Finally.”   
   
 “Yeah,” Shirabu murmured. “Fucking finally.”   
   
 “Excuse me!” Tendou frowned. “Look who’s talking!”   
   
 Ushijima cracked a smile. “He does have a point.”   
   
 Semi and Shirabu both shot them glares.   
   
 “Identical,” Tendou whispered. “Their dirty looks are identical!”   
   
 Semi considered taking a selfie to see what Tendou meant; after all, it would’ve been picture perfect. 


End file.
